Elemental
by M1ssUnd3rst4nd1ng
Summary: A story told in drabbles, each based around a fundamental element. Warning for a pyre and a beloved character and all that that involves.
1. Air

**Cover art by Phoebe594, amazingly talented, amazingly patient, and amazingly able to understand my vague, uneducated, and rambling descriptions of what I see in my head for each of these.**

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 _Air_

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He couldn't breathe, before anything else. From the moment he saw the pyre, even before the torch appeared, Merlin couldn't breathe. Hundreds of nightmares of this, and he still couldn't breathe.

He didn't even notice he was tied to the stake until the ropes bit into his wrists as he doubled from lack of air. He tried to ground himself with that—the bite of rope, the warmth of blood, the solidity of wood—but he still couldn't quite breathe.

Arthur gave the signal and the cycle started over.

Even before smoke and ash hit his lungs, Merlin couldn't breathe.

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 **So, here's another drabble series born from my NaNo adventures this year and inspired by 1917farmgirl (seriously, blame her; I was just gonna write a single drabble about Merlin's innate fear of fire, but no, we get this instead). Thanks, farmgirl, you are always an inspiration and an encouragement. Even when it ends with Merlin on a pyre.**


	2. Fire

_Fire_

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Heat was next, crawling hungrily over wood, piercing his haze. Not deadly, uncomfortable. Unpleasant. What it was doing to his mind was so much worse than what it was doing to his body.

But not for long; soon his skin felt as raw as his emotions.

It kept devouring, feasting its way to the main course even as it cooked him.

Even his face, high above the flames, had relief from the searing heat only in the form of tears he couldn't stop. That realization brought more tears, a choked sound that might be laugh or sob.

He was burning.


	3. EarthStone

_Earth/Stone_

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He struggled against the bonds, panic overriding numbness, and shouted—screamed—for Arthur, but he might as well have been fighting against and shouting at the stone walls of the citadel itself. Both bindings and king—the two things holding him in place—were as immovable and unforgiving as stone and the weight that settled in his chest and head as heavy.

The people around him stood still as statues. He was dying and people he'd cared about were watching unmoving.

Arthur—Arthur was as pale and cold and hard as his father's citadel and he wouldn't look at Merlin.


	4. Water

_Water_

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Finally, he gave up, sinking back against the post, drowning in agony.

The dark cloud of despair that settled around him brought a fresh downpour of tears, mingled with the lightning strikes of sobs tearing through his chest in bursts of raw pain. The tears clouded his vision and popped and sizzled as they fought uselessly against the rising tide of flame, mere drops against an inferno, against the heat of his king's wrath. Sounds—the murmuring of the crowd, the roaring of the fire, the bustling of life beyond this courtyard—dulled into a distant sound like rolling thunder.

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 **This is not the end; don't worry. There are three more chapters (at least).**


	5. Fear

_Fear_

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He woke gasping, the heat of ghostly flames licking at his tender skin from within. He tried to sit and found himself having been bound by his blanket in his thrashing. The struggle to free himself overbalanced him and sent him to the cold stone floor, where he lay for a long moment drawing in deep breaths and absorbing the coolness of the stone through the length of his shaking body, grounding himself against it as he settled from this latest nightmare. Gradually, he became aware that tears still poured from him, puddling beneath his cheek.

Dreams ended. Fear didn't.

* * *

 **Here we see the turning point from natural elements to emotional elements.**


	6. Love

_Love_

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Nights like these shook him to his core, left him questioning his reasons and analyzing all his past decisions and whether they were worth the risk. Some of them weren't—things he'd done out of curiosity or because he could—but most of them were for Arthur and that would always be worth it. For Arthur, for the love of his king, anything would be worth it, regardless of difficulty or risk.

So he tossed and turned and kept turning his decisions over in his mind and repeating that same mantra—"For Arthur"—until he fell into exhausted, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **One left.**


	7. Hope

_Hope_

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The mornings after, Merlin would wake still exhausted and trudge to his duties, look at Arthur and see ghosts of the fear or hatred or revulsion or apathy he'd seen the night before.

But then Arthur would smile. Arthur would frown thoughtfully and ramble to Merlin, questioning the way things were and his ability to rule justly. Arthur would be the good man Merlin knew him to be and hope would chase the last vestiges of fear into the dark corners of his mind, extinguish the nightmare flames.

And then Merlin would smile. And Merlin would dream of Albion, waking.

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 **And that's the end, there. It's been a great ride and ironically this is the first multi-chapter I've completed, lol.**

 **Have a magical day!**

 **M1ssUnd3rst4nd1ng**


End file.
